


Staffing Changes

by Sadbhyl



Series: Teach Us Things Worth Knowing [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 08:50:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadbhyl/pseuds/Sadbhyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Headmistress McGonagall needs to fill several teaching vacancies for the first term of the school year after the end of the Second Wizarding War.  Who better than a former Auror and Healer in need of a new start?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Staffing Changes

**Author's Note:**

> I blame this on my recent re-listen to all seven Potter books, as read by the mellifluous Stephen Fry. Any Potter lore errors are either my personal head canon or, you know, wrong.

Minerva McGonagall sat behind her desk in the headmistress’ office and tried not to feel, despite her age, like a girl dressing up in her mother’s robes. Certainly she had filled in as headmistress before now, when Dumbledore had been force into hiding and for that brief, horrible period after his death. Now, however, the job was permanently, irrevocably hers, and she was aware of all the eyes around her watching her, judging her every action, determining her worthiness.

The grumpy old bludgers.

One of the first of those actions sat across the desk from her. He wasn’t a large man, compact rather than slight, touches of gray tinging his sandy hair. His blue eyes were focused on her, but she could tell he was aware of the whole room. Alert. Cautious. Uncertain, but allowing no weakness to show. “I’m sorry, Professor,” John Watson said tightly but polite. “I’m no teacher.”

“You would be surprised, Healer Watson, of how little that matters at Hogwarts. No,” she cut off his interruption by holding up a hand, “we value experience over educational training here. We always have. Otherwise I would never have gotten a job here myself. Hogwarts is healing, Watson. We need a healer to help us.”

“I’m not a healer anymore.”

“So much the better for us.” She rose and circled the desk to stand before him. “I know what you’ve been through, Mr. Watson. You were barely out of Auror training when the first war with Voldemort began, and the things you saw then drove you to become a Healer instead. And I know what you lost in the second war.” She glanced from his cane to his shoulder. “But think about the children here. Every child returning to the school in the fall will have been through the war as well, here where they should have been safest. They’ve lost family and friends. Some of them have had those loved ones die in their arms. Many have been forced to practice unforgivable magic on their classmates in the name of ‘learning’. In the flush of victory, they were able to put that aside, but they will be coming back to this school fragile, uncertain of themselves as much as they are of their teachers. You can understand that. And I think, as our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, you can help them understand that.” It was tempting to beg. She was hanging many of her changes on this one man, and if he didn’t accept, she would be hard pressed to salvage them. Instead she waited quietly.

His struggle played out over his face. Uncertainty, frustration, more than a little confusion. But finally his expression smoothed out. “Of course, Professor. I’d be honored.”

“Excellent.” She covered her sigh of relief by turning back to her desk. “I’ve drawn up a tentative curriculum for each year that I would appreciate your input into. I would like you, with your unique background, to include basic healing training in the course work, simple first aid for the younger students and some rudimentary combat healing for the more advanced ones.”

He took the scroll from her, his brow furrowed. “That’s pretty advanced for school children. And none of it is on the exams.”

“I’m working with the Ministry to revise the exams. And these children all put their lives on the line this past spring, holding the castle against Voldemort’s Death Eaters. They should never have been put in combat, but that was all they knew. Had they had basic healing, many of them would have been content to stay back, out of the fight, and yet still able to help. We need to give them options, Mr. Watson. And as I said, they need healing. Maybe learning how to heal as well as harm will be good for them. It seems to have helped you.”

He didn’t reply, eyes skimming down the parchment. “Professor, you have curriculum items listed here for Year Eights. But students ordinarily leave school after Seventh Year.”

“Extenuating circumstances, Watson. As I’m sure you’re aware by now, our past year was…not up to Hogwarts standards. Most of these students will need to redo the previous year’s curriculum to make up for the gaps. And our Seventh Year students…” She interlaced her fingers, resting them on the desk in front of her. “Well, given the circumstances, those that remained at school weren’t able to take their NEWTs. The Ministry is prepared to offer waivers in lieu of…service, but I’ve received many letters from students wanting to come back and do it properly. So that is what we’re going to do. It’s the least we can do for some of them. You’ll find them an interesting group.” She couldn’t help a small smile of pride at the memory of Dumbledore’s Army. “Unorthodox but largely pleasant. Not all of them will be in your class, as they have had alternate education in Defense during their past few years and may not feel they need additional lessons. You’ll have free reign in how to bring the rest up to speed, and there is no need to teach strictly to the test if you find them generally well prepared. Again, the healing training you can offer many of them would find beneficial as well.”

He glanced up at her again. “This is Potter’s year, isn’t it?”

“It is. And I am pleased to say his request to return came to me in person.” She sighed. “I think the boy just wants a year of security before having to go out into the world. We can hardly begrudge him that.” She straightened. “But the others have followed his lead, and I agree. We owe them their education and a chance to prove themselves on their own merits. So that is what we’ll do, to the best of our abilities.”

He nodded and rolled up the parchment, shifting his cane in anticipation of standing. She stopped him. “There is one more duty I would ask of you, Watson, as part of your service here. I am in need of a new Head of House.”

“Of course, Professor, I’d be happy to—”

“For Slytherin.”

John froze. “Slytherin? But I thought, with you becoming headmistress, Gryffindor-- I don’t know anything about Slytherin house, Professor. I was in Gryffindor.”

“I’m well aware of that, Watson,” she snapped, “as I was your Head of House at the time.” She drew a breath and continued. “The students of Slytherin suffered no less than those of the rest of the school. Perhaps not all of them, but even those whose families supported Voldemort weren’t untouched. And we need leaders, Watson, people who aren’t afraid of power, who are willing to take on the roles of leadership. And the first year students will have had no part in the war. They will be sorted into the house purely on their potential and not on their actions. But they need ethics to go with their cunning and ambition. They need to learn how to use their power responsibly.” She slumped back in her chair. “To be honest, I thought about abandoning the house system altogether. It creates too many divisions, too much ill will between the houses, isolating the students from each other the way we do. But in the end, it seemed that much of a change was too dramatic, especially in light of what Voldemort planned to do with the school, making it all one house under Slytherin’s banner. So the houses remain, but the Heads will change. None of the houses will be led by a teacher who was one of their rank. And so, Professor Watson, I want you as Head of Slytherin House.”

He stared at her as though he thought she was mental. She had seen it often enough from students over the years to remain unfazed. “Why would they want me?”

“They may not want you, Watson.” She looked at him coolly. “But they need you.”

He met her eyes, still doubtful. Finally he surrendered grudgingly. “Whatever you need, Professor.”

“Excellent.” She pulled out an elegant scroll case and handed it over to him. “Your rooms will be ready for you to move in by mid-August. Unfortunately that part of the school took quite a lot of damage, but the repairs should be complete by then. If you need to send anything ahead, you may contact Mr. Filch. I daresay he should be able to find storage for you somewhere.” She rose, waited for Watson to stand as well, leaning irregularly on his cane, and escorted him to the door. “Book orders are due to Flourish and Blotts by July fifteenth. Try not to request anything too unusual. We don’t want to cause a revolt among the booksellers.” She paused at the door, hands folded in front of her. “Any questions?”

He looked rather like he’d just been run over by the Hogwarts Express and was now a little resentful of it. “No, Professor.”

“You are a professor now, too, John. First names are fine when there are no students around.”

“Thank you…Minerva. I guess I’ll see you in August, then.”

She smiled. “I look forward to it.”

The door closed behind him, and she returned to the dais where her desk stood. She could hear grumblings from the portraits around her, some of it more loudly hostile, especially that from the painting of Phineas Nigellus. “A Gryffindor in charge of Slytherin House? Outrageous!” But she only cared for one.

She stopped, one hand resting on the carved back of her chair, to look up at the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, still too new to have acquired the patina that the other paintings had. “Well?”

He smiled benignly from behind half-moon spectacles. “You don’t need my approval, Minerva.”

“I should like it all the same.”

“It’s…an interesting choice. Not one I would have made, but then that’s the benefit of a change in headmasters. We do tend to get set in our ways.” He glanced towards the door. “I remember Watson being a good student, well liked. I’m sure he’ll get on fine.”

“I hope so. I remember my first year teaching…” She shuddered slightly.

“Here’s hoping that he’ll have a second year.”

“There is that. With Voldemort dead, though, with any luck that curse is broken. I do feel I took a bit of an advantage with Watson, though. I know how desperate he’s been since his injury made it hard for him to continue at St. Mungo’s.”

“May you have better fortune than I did, my dear.”

She grimaced in agreement and pulled out her chair. “And now, I have to carry out a bit of quid pro quo. If I want to get the exchange program to America in place for some of the Fourth Years, I need to get on good terms with the Department for International Cooperation.” She took out a piece of stationary, dipped her quill in a bottle of green ink, and began to write.

_Dear Mr. Holmes,_

_Kingsley Shacklebolt informed me in passing of your wish to find a position for your younger brother. As I am currently short several instructors here at the school, I would be happy to meet with him to determine if he would be fit for any of them. Please extend to him an invitation to visit me at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade on Friday the tenth of July…_


End file.
